


A Call From Cthulhu

by mysticmartin



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - Fandom, Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, H.P. Lovecraft - Fandom, LOVECRAFT H. P. - Works, Lovecraft - Fandom
Genre: Comedy, Gen, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Sketches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 02:45:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4374182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysticmartin/pseuds/mysticmartin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A new twist on a horror classic...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Call From Cthulhu

His call is inescapable.   
He moves silently, through depraved and twisting networks of his own design, invisible to the human eye, long inhuman limbs slithering beneath the surface, reaching out, blindly in the dark, inevitably ensnaring all. His sharp, unnatural cry rings out in silent rooms, in vestibules long abandoned by civilised man. He is relentless, ageless and indomitable, always lying in wait, patiently watching until the moment his victims least expect him.  
They never see him coming. That is his most profound cruelty. No-one has ever seen this beast and lived. No-one has the slightest inkling of their plotted destruction, no-one knows of the ragged cry which will casually tear their psyche apart with the thoughtless ease with which man treads on ants, no-one would believe you if you tried to warn them.  
This was the lesson I learned. It was on a perfectly ordinary day that I encountered of the madness that festers beneath the ground. What once lay sleeping has been awoken by mankind’s foolish technological intervention, what was once a mere monstrous vision has crossed boundaries thought unassailable, and the beast’s dream has become man’s nightmare.   
There is no hope for me. There is no hope for any of us. Soon, all will hear the beast’s monstrous cry, and civilisation itself will turn to ash. The beast’s cry seems innocuous, but even a second’s hearing will drive a man insane.   
The smooth blackness of a limb disconnecting. The impatient human sigh and his questioning voice in the darkness. And then the call, the horrible, unimaginable, inexpressible perversity of things no mortal can ever comprehend:  
“Dear customer, our records indicate that your PPI refund is still unclaimed…”


End file.
